


The Raggedy Man Takes A Promise

by queanofswords



Series: Noble Verse [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Bedtime Stories, Fairy Tales, Gen, Pete's World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 08:05:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queanofswords/pseuds/queanofswords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In olden times, when wishing still helped, there was a little girl who lived in a big blue house with her aunt..."</p><p>In Pete's World, Amy Pond tells her young daughter a fairytale before bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Raggedy Man Takes A Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I took the first line straight from my Grimm's fairy tale collection. :D Best opening fairy tale line ever. Part of the Noble Verse continuity.

In olden times, when wishing still helped, there was a little girl who lived in a big blue house with her aunt. Outside the house was a huge garden, over-grown with vines, weeds and thistles. But the little girl wasn't afraid to play in it, because it was _her_ garden, and she liked how wild it was.

One day, the girl was following a small brown rabbit from the shrubbery just behind the house down past the garden shed, where the grass grew taller and the thistles grew close. It was a warm afternoon, and she had taken off her yellow Wellies so that she could move quietly and feel the grass between her toes.

The sun was starting to go down when suddenly, she realised that she had caught her fine red coat on a bramble. While she tried to free herself, a long, spiky brown tendril moved across her arm, circling her wrist. More vines came out of the ground and grabbed her by the legs, pinching and poking her. The ground was getting softer and she quickly realised that the thistles were pulling her down. Frightened, she shouted for somebody to help her, but her aunt couldn't hear her all the way up in that big house.

That was when she heard somebody moving in the trees that bordered the garden.

"Help me!" she cried, hoping it was her aunt or maybe a friend from the village come to find her. 

The vines were twining all around her arms and legs, pulling her down into soil. The little girl was very afraid now, and she pleaded again, "Help me!" 

A face appeared in the leaves of the nearest tree. It was a man, but he was a stranger. He had a thin, pointy face and funny brown hair that stood on end like a thistle. 

He blinked curiously at her. "Why are you making that awful noise?" he asked.

"The thistles are trying to pull me underground," she cried. "Help me get free!"

"That's no reason to make such a fuss," said the man, coming away from the trees, but now the girl could see that he wasn't really a man. He was tall and thin, like the trees in the garden, and he had points on his ears. He was dressed all in green: his cravat was bright emerald, his jacket and trousers were the colour of moss, but they were all torn, like he'd walked through a thicket of briars and never bothered to try to fix any of the tears.

"What are you?" asked the girl. She wondered if he was some kind of elf or faerie. Her aunt had told her stories about the fair folk when she'd been very small.

"I'm me!" he cried. "What are you?"

"I'm a girl," she replied. "Please help me, I'm frightened."

The raggedy green man crept closer, until he was near enough to her that she could smell green summer grass. He looked her right in the eye and studied her. The prickly vines were still tight on her wrists and ankles, and she could feel her feet sinking deeper into the garden soil.

"You're not a girl," he said at last. "I've seen girls. I know one when I see one."

"I _am_ a girl!" she cried, quietly indignant. "If you don't know that, then you haven't seen any at all."

"Why have you got orange petals, then?" he asked. "Girls don't have petals."

"That's my hair!" she said.

The raggedy man thought about this for a moment. The soil was almost to her knees now. He picked up a lock of her orange hair. "Are you a fire spirit?"

"No," she said. "Please, I'm sinking!"

"What do you want me to do about it?" he asked. He was getting annoyed now.

The girl was very calm and practical, normally, but right now she was scared. She didn't want to go underground. There were worms and beetles in the dirt and it would be very dark. Tears began to fall from her eyes in great big drops.

"Oh, don't cry!" said the raggedy man in dismay. "I don't like it when flowers cry."

"I'm not a flower!" she shouted through her tears, and she sobbed all the harder, because now she was getting angry at the foolish man who didn't listen to reason.

"Oh, stop it! That's enough!" The raggedy man took a silver wand from inside his jacket. The end of it glowed green and he waved it at the vines. Just like that, they loosened their hold on her and let her go, leaving behind tiny red scratches that itched.

The raggedy man hid his wand in one of his deep pockets. Then he put his hands under her arms, lifted her out of the earth, and set her down safely on the grass again. The girl wiggled her toes and felt the air between them and she was relieved. She hugged the raggedy man and thanked him.

"You're welcome," he replied, looking embarrassed. Then he crouched low on the ground to look at her feet. "Those aren't roots," he said with a frown. He stood up again. "You're right. You're not a flower."

"Like I told you," she said, wiping away the last of her tears and sniffing.

"Ah hah!" he cried. He pointed at her, triumphant. "I know what you are! You're a water spirit!"

"No," she replied. "I'm just a girl."

"Nonsense!" said the raggedy man. "You're a water spirit."

The girl crossed her arms and looked at him. "That's silly," she said. "You can't see spirits."

"Of course you can!" he cried. 

"I've never seen one."

He grinned a wide, toothy grin. "Well, that's your own problem. _I_ know a spirit when I see one, and _you_ are a spirit."

"What's your name?" the girl asked him, deciding that he was a little bit mad.

"Name?" The raggedy man stared at her. Suddenly, he looked afraid. He bounded away from her, nearly disappearing into the trees again. "Why do you want to know? Who's asking? What do you want with it?"

The girl was confused. "I only want to know what to call you."

"Why?" he demanded. "I think it's very rude of you to ask for it. You haven't even offered me anything!"

She thought about this. Nobody she'd ever met had reacted quite this way to such a simple question. "I could tell you my name."

"No! No no no, that's no good at all!" cried the raggedy man, dancing about in his agitation. "It's all used and wrinkled!" Then he stopped and slowly he turned and looked at her. "What else do you have?"

The girl looked down at herself. The only thing she had, other than her clothes, was the red coat that her aunt had bought for her only the week before, but it would have been much too small for him, and she hated the idea of giving it away.

He came close again, bringing with him the scent of dust after rain. He looked into her round, white face until she squirmed under the weight of his soil-dark eyes.

"I know what I want," he said with a mischievous grin. "I want you to give me a promise."

"A promise? Is that all?" She was a very clever little girl, and she knew that it was a bad idea to make promises to people without knowing what you'd be giving up.

"That's all," he said, and he patted the grass. 

She sat down beside him. "My aunt says I must always keep my promises."

"Ah, she's very wise, your aunt. But if you want me to give you my name, you must give me something in return, and a promise is what I want from you."

"But I don't know how to give you one."

The raggedy man held up one long, pale finger and tapped her on the nose. "I'll show you." He sat cross-legged on the ground, facing her and put his hands on his knees. "Now, you sit like me." She crossed her legs and put her hands on her knees. "That's it. Now, put your hand over your heart." 

She did as she was told. "Now you say the words."

"What words?" she asked, because she didn't know.

"The _right_ words," he said impatiently. "It's _your_ promise. You should know how to do it!"

"But aren't you going to tell me your name first?"

"Oh, there you go again. You're very demanding for a water spirit!"

"That's probably because I'm not one," she said. She was getting tired of arguing with him.

"All right, all right! As a show of good faith." He held up his right hand and patted his chest, right over his heart. "There."

"That's not a name."

"That's where I keep it, safe and sound, where no one can see or hear it or take it away from me. Now, give me a promise, and I'll tell you what it is."

"I don't know how," she said sadly.

The raggedy man was disappointed. "Oh." He put his head on his hands, and so did she.

After they'd thought for a little while, the raggedy man jumped to his feet and crowed happily. "I know! I know!" 

He took her by the hand and they ran deeper into the garden, much, much farther than she had ever gone before. It wasn't long before they'd left the garden behind altogether, and they were running through the forest. As they ran, the raggedy man laughed, and so did she. There was sunlight coming through the leaves, and everything was green and very beautiful.

At last, they stopped in a clearing. There was a very big tree there, larger than any the girl had ever seen before. It had long, twisting branches and it was white as ivory. It's leaves were silver and they rustled in the breeze and shone bright in the sun.

"This is my home," said the raggedy man proudly.

"You live in a tree?"

"Of course I do! Where else would I live?"

"A house," she replied. She pointed into the forest, back the way they'd come. "I live in that big blue one back there."

"Don't be foolish," cried the raggedy man. "Nobody lives there." He started to climb one of the lower branches of the tree. "Wait right there!" he cried as he climbed, up and up and higher and higher, until he was just a green speck, like a frog clinging to the bark.

Soon enough, he climbed back down again, swinging from branch to branch as he went.

When he came back to her, he was holding a bright red apple. "You have to eat this."

"I don't like apples," said the girl.

"Of course you do! Everybody likes apples!"

She didn't, really, but she took the apple from his hand and took a bite. It was sweet, and crisp—much better than any apple she'd ever tasted. Before she knew it, she had gobbled the whole thing down, right down to the core, and she was licking the juice from her fingers.

"I know what to do now," she said.

The raggedy man smiled and held out his hand.

The girl shook her head and crooked her finger. He bent down and she put her right hand over her heart. A bright red jewel appeared in the hand over her heart. It was an apple made of ruby, big as her fist, and it sparkled in the sunlight. She handed it to him and he grinned happily and laughed before putting it in his pocket.

"Thank you," he said. Then he bent down again and whispered his name in her ear.

"You must keep it hidden," he warned. "It isn't yours to give away, even if you get a fair trade."

She nodded. "I understand."

Smiling, he held out his hand. "Come with me," he said. "I think I hear another water spirit shouting." The girl put her hand in his and they walked back into the forest together.


End file.
